


the fire and the flame

by rain_at_dawn



Series: chiaroscuro [3]
Category: SHINee
Genre: Band Fic, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Masturbation, Morning Sex, Sleepy Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:33:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26876740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rain_at_dawn/pseuds/rain_at_dawn
Summary: Kibum wonders if he’s a part of what Minho sees when he closes his eyes, just as much as Minho is when Kibum lays down alone on nights when he has his bed to himself.
Relationships: Choi Minho/Kim Kibum | Key
Series: chiaroscuro [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951579
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39
Collections: Kinktober Bingo 2020





	the fire and the flame

**Author's Note:**

> For the purpose of this fic, let's pretend Minho gets discharged from the military within the same time-frame as Kibum ^_^

The morning’s bright on Kibum’s face when he stirs. The next thing he feels is the arm around his waist; Minho’s still asleep and his breathing is a low hum in Kibum’s ear. Kibum’s back is pressed against his chest. The smell of last night’s sex still lingers on the sheets.

Much of the effect of last night’s alcohol must have worn off, though not so much for Kibum to forget what had gone down after Changmin’s wedding reception: nothing too crazy, except for a round of hurried, messy, open-mouthed kisses when he and Minho had reached Kibum’s apartment, then him leading Minho to his bedroom to pin him against his mattress.

Kibum remembers every single swear that had punctuated Minho’s groans as he’d straddled him, perfectly paced with the rhythm of Kibum’s hips grinding above him. He even remembers the heat spilling from Minho’s mouth into his own as they’d rode out their orgasms together, a hot hand clutching his own. Despite autumn approaching, they’d fallen asleep with the sheets flung down to the furthest end of the bed as the sweat on their bodies cooled under the ceiling fan.

It had been exactly the type of night which Kibum would imagine smoking and sparking embers of its own with the degree of passion involved. As Minho mumbles something in his slumber, Kibum closes his eyes to shut out the sunlight and bring the best of last night back to life.

He reaches down, one hand between his legs, just brushing past Minho’s arm clinging to him, and takes a hold of himself.

As he begins to stroke, Kibum whispers Minho’s name to himself and imagines his own name offered back to him; stretched taut over a moan, shattered over a gasp. Minho’s face from last night flashes behind his eyelids, not yet enough to get him aching; Kibum just applies more pressure to his dick, repeating that name to hear his own echoed in his head.

It’s already bad enough that he’s going to have to get a head-start on laundry today, so he might as well keep going. Minho had kept him up like a fucking machine, meeting all of Kibum’s grinding with his own thrusts. He’d give Minho that much, Kibum admits, for being a fast study, for coming to learn Kibum’s body better than he himself did.

He feels himself leaking; it’s far too hot for autumn again. He’s so turned on that it almost hurts and the only person who could get him beyond this is lost to his own dreams. Kibum wonders if he’s a part of what Minho sees when he closes his eyes, just as much as Minho is when Kibum lays down alone on nights when he has his bed to himself.

If it is that way – what if, what if? – then is it just as good as what they’ve been sharing on their odd nights – and sometimes, the rare afternoons – alone together? Is it better, could it be? Could it ever?

“… starting without me?”

Minho’s hand slithers down to join his, fingers wrapping around his dick. His breath is hot in his ear when he mutters: “You should’ve woken me up earlier, Kibum.”

_Kibum, Kibum-ah._ Kibum’s never going to get tired of the way that sounds when it’s said to him, any which way Minho means. _Fuck, Kibum! Yes, Kibum, more, Kibum…_

“Get inside me, Ming.”

On some nights, Kibum had known exactly what he was missing the morning after. The steady nudge of Minho’s hips into his ass, followed by the swell of his cock pushing into him leads him down that same train of thought. Kibum braces his hands against the edge of the mattress and pushes back into the first thrust inside him. He could start a war with Minho and it might just end up this way again, either one of them pounding into the other. No spoils or losses.

But things might end differently after this, with drowsiness taking the edge off the teasing and demands which usually led them tumbling into empty rooms or showers. Minho moves slowly inside him, as if he were relishing the feel of Kibum around him. His grip on Kibum’s cock is firm, but the kisses to his shoulder brush softly. Kibum can’t think of anything else to do except match his pace; thrust for thrust, touch for touch.

In a familiar pattern, Minho’s mouth finds his as they draw closer to climax. When the surge hits, Kibum takes whatever Minho pours into him, tongues stumbling over the most important words that always seem to escape them in such a moment.

For minutes afterwards, they both lie on their sides, with Kibum weakly protesting as Minho pulls out. He’s wet and sticky between his thighs, and his chest is speckled with his own release. There’s a lot of it on his hand too, as it must be on Minho’s.

Kibum rolls over, ignoring the mess and his own discomfort, to flop over Minho’s sweaty, spent body. Their legs shift to comfortably entangle together; for good reason, since Kibum doubts that either of them will be up to standing, let alone walking away any time soon.

“What’re you planning next…” Minho’s voice sounds deep and wrecked, trailing off when he runs his one clean hand to push back the damp hair clinging to Kibum’s forehead. “Shower?”

_Eventually_ , Kibum knows that for sure. But as for later:

“How about brunch? Soon as I get the feeling back in my legs.”

Minho’s smile is one of those that need to be felt; it’s warm enough that Kibum doesn’t have to lift his head off his chest to know that it’s there, steady as the rising sun, rivaling its radiance.

“Brunch sounds good. And then?”

Kibum gathers the rest of the strength to raise himself slightly over Minho, just to answer that questioning gaze with the most chaste kiss they’ve shared over the last twelve hours.

“Dessert.” Kibum replies, before moving in for the next one.


End file.
